Wildcat
by The-Little-White-Fox
Summary: A new outlaw has turned up in Nottingham, and a team of bounty hunters soon follow. Just who is the Wildcat, and why are these bounty hunters so intent on their prize? Rated T just in case.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**: Don't own Robin Hood, blah blah blah… we all know the spiel, but we can dream, can't we?

**Authors Note:** This fic is set initially between Seasons 1 and 2, which is when I actually started planning this (yes, that does mean this has been in planning for more than a year…. I turn procrastination into an art form) and due my temporary lack of school, I decided that I may as well get on with actually writing it.

Rated T because I might get somewhat graphic in my descriptions in future chapters, especially if/when there's fighting.

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** Prologue**

"Stupid, stupid Hood!" yelled the Sheriff to no-one in particular, pacing angrily behind his desk. "Damn that man! I want my money back!!!"

Yet another shipment of tax money had just disappeared in transit, and he was furious. He paused next to his desk for a moment, before picking up a paperweight and hurling it at the guard stationed at the door. The guard expertly dodged the flying missile and sighed inwardly, before picking up the paperweight and placing it back on the desk. The long-suffering guard knew that whenever the sheriff was in a bad mood, the guard on duty invariably ended up feeling the full force of the sheriff's temper. As he turned to return to his post, the sheriff spoke again.

"You. Guard. Go get Gisborne for me. Now."

The guard nodded and moved to exit the room, happy that he could escape the angry little man's wrath. Unfortunately for him, he never got the chance, as the door flew open with a crash and a dark-haired man - possibly the largest person the Sheriff had ever laid eyes on - strode into the room, closely followed by the somewhat annoyed and harassed-looking Guy. The stranger, the guard saw, was a positively terrifying sight - from the scar that ran across his face from left temple to chin and smaller ones that criss-crossed both large, heavily muscled arms, to his sheer size, the long chain of teeth around his neck – wolf teeth, no doubt - and the large sword sheathed across his back. Unfortunately, Vaysey only noticed one of these aspects.

"Gisborne! Who is this man, how did he get in here with that sword, and why has he not been arrested yet?" The Sheriff shouted.

"My Lord Sheriff" began Gisborne, speaking quickly "I was about to say, he is a bounty hunter and-" Guy was cut off, as the giant interrupted.

"I am Marcus. I believe that you may have recently suffered a growth in your, shall we say, outlaw problem? Specifically, one known as the Wildcat? Uses unusual weapons and a distinctive style? "

The Sheriff's bad mood lessened somewhat at the giant's words. Smiling malevolently, he turned his attention to Marcus.

"Ah yes, Nottingham's newest masked menace. If I remember correctly, he turned up about a week or two ago. Your point?"

"Not _he_, Sheriff. _She_." The Sheriff and Gisborne both stared in surprise at the bounty hunter, who grinned wolfishly.

"Why else do you think the Wildcat goes around cloaked and masked? My point is, you may or may not be aware that a certain influential person has placed a bounty on that girl's head. I and my team - who are as we speak setting up camp nearby - have been tracking her for some time now. I believe that after arriving here, she met up with the outlaw Robin Hood and his band and is now in their company."

"I see. But I don't see how this concerns me." The Sheriff paused, "Ah, wait, but it does. You need my help, don't you?" he said, his scheming mind already buzzing with plans and possibilities.

"Not help, as such, Sheriff. More of an agreement. You see, you want your outlaws, and I want the Wildcat. They have joined forces, it seems only reasonable that we do too."

"…Go on?" The Sheriff prompted. _Perhaps this bounty hunter wasn't all brawn and no brains after all…. _he thought, weighing up the offer.

"I simply propose that you lend me some of your guards, and when your outlaw problem is fixed, we go our separate ways – I with the Wildcat and her bounty, you with Hood, his gang and their bounty." Marcus stated, eyeing the Sheriff carefully.

"It would seem to me, Marcus the Bounty Hunter, that you and I might have an agreement." the Sheriff said, nodding. _Yes, the giant was definitely smarter than he'd thought...this 'bounty hunter' could actually be useful._ He smiled evilly. "Tell me, how many men do you have, and how many would you need?"

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**Authors note (continued):** oooh, who is the Wildcat, and why does she have bounty hunters tracking her? you'll find out, soon enough XD

Anyway, sorry if it sounds a bit confusing or kinda dodgy – I had issues with how I was going to introduce my OCs, and then ended up writing half of this after getting absolutely no sleep the previous night, and the other half while on a massive caffeine high.

On a completely unrelated note, posting the prologue means that I now actually have to stop being lazy and write the full story – good incentive, don't you think:D


	2. Masked Menaces Part 1

**Disclaimer:** you all know the spiel, don't you?

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry I haven't updated in ages…. I'll try to get the rest of the chapters done faster, but I go back to school in a few days, so…

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**Chapter 1 – Masked Menaces, Part 1**

Despite the hustle and bustle of the town in the daylight hours, Nottingham was virtually deserted at night. Moonlight cut itself a path through the night air, casting its' light on the few inhabitants who were still awake and sober enough to see it – mainly the guards patrolling the town, and the Nightwatchman, who was presently climbing out of a castle window.

Marian jumped down from her exit and landed tidily on the roof of a sound-muffling thatched roof, picked up her loot – a sack of bread pilfered from the kitchens, now destined for the poor – and started the journey back across town. She decided to keep to the roofs, mentally thanking whoever built the houses of Nottingham so tightly packed together, and quietly made her way across the town, stopping to check for guards whenever she came within clear view of the street.

Watching the ground level as carefully as she was, Marian had forgotten to keep her eye on the roof ahead; a blunder emphasised when she turned around the peak of a Pitt Street roof, only to have a cloaked figure barrel into her, knocking the breath out of her. She landed flat on her back, vaguely aware of the bread sack disappearing over the edge and dropping into the street below. As she struggled to force the air back into her lungs, Marian was able to see that the impact had knocked the stranger off-balance, although they had not been winded as she had, and therefore was able to quickly regain their footing.

The stranger, Marian also saw, wore a voluminous, though dull, mottled grey cloak, which covered a shirt and pants in a slightly softer shade of grey, a pale mask, a pair of very thick gloves and numerous belts of some dark leather, and strangest of all, riding boots with thick, metal-coated soles and strange leather roping tied up and down each bootleg – also dark grey in colour. However, Marian couldn't detect a sword, or any kind of weapon for that matter.

"You're the Nightwatchman, aren't you?" The grey person said, in a slightly accented voice, as Marian managed to stand up and head for the spot the sack had fallen. "Hang on…but you're female!" the masked figure continued, head tilted to the side in a decidedly inquisitive manner, a trace of mischievous amusement now evident in her tone – for the cloaked stranger too, Marian noticed, was female. She halted in alarm, but relaxed slightly when she realised that the mask of the highly observant individual standing before her was crafted in the likeness of an animal; combined with the unusual outfit, the speaker could only be one person.

"And when has being a woman ever stopped you, Wildcat?" She replied evenly, despite her previously firm resolve not to speak as the Nightwatchman, should her voice ever betray her identity. _Well, it's a bit too late for that isn't it?_ She berated herself huffily – though she was pleased to see her reply had caused the young outlaw to start. _Though, on the other hand, if the Wildcat's reputation is anything to go by, he's - no, she's - not about to go running off and telling the whole county now, is she?_

Oblivious to Marian's mental argument, the other woman recovered herself swiftly, only to sigh heavily, managing to look slightly annoyed even under her mask.

"So much for keeping a low pro-" The Wildcat trailed off, peering intently at something behind Marian. "Get down!" she hissed, dropping flat on the roof. Marian hastily mimicked the outlaw's reaction, the sudden warning catching her off-guard. Only then did she see what spooked the Wildcat – the flickering, flame-lit silhouette of a person had appeared on the side of a house across the street.

She turned her head in the direction of the wildcat, silently nodding her thanks, only to freeze, mid-nod, in astonishment. While Marian's Nightwatchman cloak blended remarkably well into the forestry, – and slightly less effectively into the rooftops in the dark night air – the mottled grey of the Wildcat's cloak had enabled it's owner to seemingly meld into shadows, leaving only her cat-faced mask to peer out of the gloom like a spectral apparition. There was also something unusual about the Wildcat's eyes, though Marian couldn't quite pick what it was, exactly. Noticing her stare, the Wildcat cocked her head questioningly; the mask tilting as if to ask "_Is something the matter?"_

Shaking her head slightly, Marian turned her attention back to the street as quiet footsteps became audible; their mystery figure was drawing closer.

She sighed with relief as a boy – no older than twelve or thirteen, by her reckoning – crept into view, whistling and waving a stubby candle around every so often as he made his way down the street.

"Stupid lad" she heard the wildcat mutter as the boy passed their hiding spot, before stifling another small laugh. Not getting the joke, Marian shot her a look, and the Wildcat explained quietly, a grin evident in her voice.

"You hear him whistlin'? The lad's most likely lost a goat or sommat, and judging by how late it is, I wouldn't want to be him if he don't find it soon."

"That's not funny." Marian replied, also whispering.

The young woman shrugged. "Never said it was." She commented then paused, "Though I do swear he looks familiar..." the wildcat added, almost an afterthought.

"But you've only been here, what, a few days?" Marian questioned, confused.

"My point exactly." The wildcat stated flatly.

"Well, despite whether you know him or not, I think that boy's gone by now. So, if you'll excuse me, I have a certain well-stocked kitchen's pantry to redistribute." Marian said as she rose and jumped down to retrieve the fallen sack of bread.

"Hold on, you stole that much bread from the _castle _kitchens?" asked the Wildcat, now perched precariously on the roof's edge. "Impressive. You work in there or something?" she continued, head once again tilted in her curious manner. "Or not. Well, nice meetin' you anyway, Nightwatchman." The outlaw added quickly, as Marian pointedly ignored her question. _For an outlaw, especially an anonymous one, that Wildcat is quite unusual..._ thought Marian, as she shouldered the sack. _Doesn't take anything seriously, never stops talking - it's a wonder she hasn't been caught yet!_

Marian had only gotten a few houses further down the street, when she heard an exclamation and a large cracking noise, closely followed by a dull crash and a string of muffled curses. Marian spun, expecting to see a patrol of guards in the alleyway behind her. Instead, she found herself trying her hardest to not burst out laughing at the sight that greeted her…

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**Author's Note: **

Three things:

- This took so long to update because the meeting between the Wildcat and Marian was initially supposed to be part of the prologue, but I added it to this chapter, and then it flat-out refused to be written. Then, when I finally got it written, it was far too long in comparison to some other already-written chapters, so I split it in half - Sorry 'bout the cliffie… (In short: what was initially supposed to be a prologue, ended up being three chapters. Go figure.) I also went on a week-long camp, which didn't help glares at stupid camp

- The gang will play a much larger part than they are right now – it was just easier to have Marian meet the wildcat and do something else in the next chapter. (Besides, the gang wouldn't have fitted on the roof anyway )

- I am not turning this into a Lost-style story that has squillions of mysteries and intrigues, but no answers. I swear. If it does start getting Lost-ish, feel free to hit me with something heavy.

Also, reviews would be loved – I keep worrying myself silly wondering what you guys think about my story….


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